


i'm just a stranger (even to myself)

by inconsistentlypresent (Mossy_Bench)



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Magic, Amnesia, Angst, Background Reyna/Calypso, M/M, POV First Person, Unhappy Ending, background canon relationships, my old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11437347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mossy_Bench/pseuds/inconsistentlypresent
Summary: There's one classroom that's always been abandoned. It's just a part of the school. No one knows why it's there. Some people say it's haunted. Some people say that's ridiculous.It is haunted, actually. By me.---Nico is a ghost who doesn't know who he is, trapped in a single room for years. It's a bit boring, but he's okay.All of that changes when two people named Jason and Piper walk in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written and completed several years back. I found it again recently and thought I might as well post it here! Thanks for reading!

There's one classroom that's always been abandoned. It's just a part of the school. No one knows why it's there. Some people say it's haunted. Some people say that's ridiculous.

It is haunted, actually. By me.

I'm not sure what I look like, so I cannot accurately describe myself. I do know that I have a body, which I can sense and feel most of the time. There are no mirrors in this room, not much of anything, really - only peeling white paint and a window with bent shutters. I don't know what else there is. I am unable to leave this room, as I have seen others do.

But I can vaguely remember some things. I know I've been elsewhere before. I know there should be more. But I cannot recall what.

Often I just be. Sometimes there are janitors or teachers needing a break. Other times there are students. This is a high school, after all, and they need _somewhere_ to make out, or talk, or just to breathe.

Two people hurry into the room, and I perk up, glad to be distracted from my usual boredom. A very beautiful girl is trying to stifle her laughter. Her hair and skin are brown, her eyes shine with different colors. It's a warm day, so she's dressed lightly, with simple shorts and a t-shirt. Some people simply shine, and she is one of them.

She's tugging along a boy, blond and muscular and, well, a jock. There's not much more to add. He has a scar on his lip, however. I want to ask him where it's from. But I can't speak. It simply won't work when I try.

"Piper, we'll be late," the guy says, glancing back at the outside.

The girl's eyes sparkle. "Live a little. It's not like the teachers care, anyway. Ms. Lupa would marry you if she could."

A little bored, I settle back. I've been in this room long enough to know what comes next.

"I guess you're right . . ." the guy says.

"Exactly. And I can come up with an excuse, you know me." Piper grins, and leans forward to the guy.

I begin to look away, to give them their privacy, but I turn back when I hear the guy saying, quiet, "I don't want to be kicked off the team, though."

"Jason, that's not going to happen. You're their star player!" she says, a little desperately.

I raise my eyebrows (yeah, I have eyebrows, I just don't know what they look like). I've heard people talking about a Jason recently, and their descriptions of a fun, popular senior don't really match with this meek - albeit muscular - guy. And I'm pretty sure I've heard the name even before then. Well, it's a common name. I think. I can't be sure of anything.

"Piper?" Jason says in a rush, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, but I really . . . can't."

Piper shakes her head, and she looks disappointed before she pulls herself together. "Still?" she says softly.

Jason isn't meeting her eyes, but I have a clear view. They're blue, and tired. "I'm sorry, I really thought I was okay."

I frown. I don't know why, but I feel uneasy. I want to know more, but maybe it's not my business.

"It's alright. Let's get to class." Piper twines her fingers through Jason's, and after a moment hesitation, he nods quickly and they walk out.

I'm feeling very troubled now. I try to put it out of my mind, but, well, there aren't many distractions here.

\---

The next people to wander in are a group of girls and boys I recognize. They always come here to gossip. Sometimes it's interesting. Usually it's not.

A boy named Mitchell is the first to speak. "I am so jealous," he says.

A girl nods fervently. Her name's . . . Lacy? "I know. But they're so cute together!"

I feel myself starting to doze a little. I don't need much sleep as a ghost (I suppose that's what I am) but I still can when the situation calls for it. And this bore-fest definitely calls for it.

"He's so fucking hot," another person says. "Goddamn it, I could just eat him up."

"We know, Drew."

"He'd have to be, to deserve Piper."

"I heard they're having problems, though," someone says, and everyone is all ears. "Katie told Travis who told Percy who told Frank - who I overheard telling Hazel - that Jason still won't sleep with Piper!"

Everyone makes scandalized noises. I feel uneasy once more, desperate to leave this room. If only I could.

"Maybe he's going to break up with her!" says one boy. "Or she'll get fed up and break up with him!"

Mercifully, the bell rings, and they all scramble to get their things. Sometimes I wish I could mess with them - make them think a brick is floating, or something - but my body goes through everything except the ceiling, walls, and floor. I know; I've tried.

Why do I feel so ill all of a sudden? What does it mean? Does it even mean anything?

But answers are not forthcoming. I watch the last person leave the room. Then I'm alone once more.

\---

It's night, but as always, I'm not very sleepy. Any light I get comes from the windows. Sitting in this darkness every day for years on end is enough to drive one person insane. I'm okay, though. I don't know why. It's peaceful.

It's not peaceful, however, when I hear the jangling of keys and the sound of the door opening. A girl walks in hesitantly, carrying a bright flashlight that lights up the whole room. Her hair is curly and gold, and she's frowning.

"I know you're there," she says. "It's me. Hazel."

I stare at her. I want to say something, ask her who she is, but, as always, I can't speak.

"Oh, right." She fumbles a little to grab a gemstone from her pocket. "Okay. I'm going to let you talk now," she says. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and says clearly, "Hades, I call upon you to grant Nico di Angelo the power of speech."

"What in the world are you doing?" I immediately say, the words surprisingly fluid.

She jumps, and tears are welling up in her eyes, but I don't - I can't - "Nico?" she whispers.

"Who is Nico?" I say, confused.

"Oh no, no." She looks upset, and starts pacing. "Tell me what you remember, anything."

I frown. "I don't know. I've been here for years, a lot of people have come and gone."

"No, I mean, before." She can't see me so she's facing the wrong direction. "Before this room. Please, at least remember me." Her voice cracks.

I will myself to float in front of her. It's not helpful for her - my voice echoes all around the room - but I can see her face. Her lips are quivering.

Who is she? Why can't I remember?

"I'm sorry," I say. "I don't know you."

She shakes her head, hides her face. "I - I should go." She moves stand up. Panic balloons in my chest.

"No, wait!" I hurry to say. She stops, thankfully. "Tell me, please, who you are. Why you're here. I -" I swallow "- I don't even know who I am."

She hesitates. I can't let this go. She may never come back to this room, and I need to know.

"Please, Hazel," I say, softer.

Her showers sag as she slides down so she's sitting with her back against the wall. "Your name is Nico di Angelo."

I listen, and file it away carefully, even though it doesn't sound very familiar.

"I'm Hazel. Hazel Levesque. I'm your sister."

I'm startled by that. "Sister? But your last name's different."

Hazel smiles dryly. "People were always surprised when we told them we were siblings, but that was because you are - were - white, and I'm black. But we're my brother, alright -  
or, to be accurate, you're my half-brother. We share a father."

She sighs. Her eyes are the color of liquid gold, but there's something dimmed about them. "Speaking of our father, he's part of the reason you're here. Our father, he's magical. Literally."

I can't help but scoff.

Hazel rolls her eyes. "Really. But it's weird stuff, it's death magic. And jewel magic. And earth magic. I don't really understand it. I never really wanted his abilities passed on to me." She smiles. "But you accepted them so easily. You were like his younger self, you know. Black hair, thin as a twig, bags under your eyes - your eyes were exactly the same." She drifts off a little as she remembers things I cannot.

"What happened?" I ask. It seems so different from my current boring existence, it's like another person's life, and I can't help but feel detached from it.

"Something went wrong. You were trying to help a friend, but the magic wasn't right, and -" Hazel sighs. "You died."

"But I don't feel dead," I say. I've never known exactly what I was, but that doesn't seem quite right.

"Well, our father has a way with dead things," Hazel says with a humorless laugh. "He reassembled your spirit, almost. But your actual physical body was destroyed. What you're feeling right now - it's magic. It's not real."

I rub my hands together, to assure myself that they're real. "This is ridiculous," I say. "But if you knew all this, why did you wait years to come find me?"

"I was never interested in our father's works, like I said," Hazel says. "But after you, I dedicated myself to it. I was fourteen."

"How old are you now?" I ask.

Pain flashes a little in her eyes, and I feel a stab of guilt, for my ignorance of myself, for hurting her. "Seventeen." She clears her throat. "Anyway, I finally completed basic training, last evening. I came here as soon as I could."

I don't know what to do. "I don't understand," I say. "That's it? Why can't I leave this place? Am I stuck like this forever?"

"You're not alive, so there are certain constraints." Hazel shakes her head. "It has something to do with redemption and fate. As for when you can leave - I don't know exactly, but there's a reason you're here. Our father won't tell me much, but he did say it was up to you to leave or not."

"But I _can't_ leave!" I say, frustrated. "I've tried!"

"I don't know," Hazel admits. "It's complicated, and I've only been learning for three years. One thing I know for sure: this has to do with remembering. You have to remember in order to have a choice."

I want to hit something, but my hands will just go through. "How?" I snap. "How do I remember? What am I supposed to DO?" I feel so helpless. There's no way I have a choice in anything. I can't do anything when I'm this way.

"I'm sorry, Nico," Hazel says. And she really does look sorry. "I -" she chokes up for a second, and automatically I want to lean forward and hug her, but I know it won't work. "I know you don't remember me, but I miss you. A lot."

"I wish I could remember," I say. My heart aches a little. "I want to remember."

Hazel smiles a little, but not in a happy way. "We'll see, I guess," she says. She stands up heavily and starts making her way to the door.

"Thank you for letting me speak," I say. "Even if I'm talking to myself."

"About that." Hazel looks bashful. "If you try to speak when someone without sorcerer descent is listening, they won't hear you. Safety precaution. We can't have someone knowing about all this. It always start wars."

I laugh out of surprise. What, they're called sorcerers now? "Oh. Um, alright. Will you, uh, visit me again?" I don't want to sound too needy or desperate - she's got a life, I literally don't - but it's nice being around someone who knows I'm there.

Hazel clutches her flashlight. "I'll try, but, uh, technically, I shouldn't be visiting you. Dad says it's against the rules. Letting fate run its course, and all that. But I couldn't just leave you."

"I understand," I say, trying to not be too disappointed.

Hazel hesitates. "I don't feel right leaving you like this."

The selfish part of me wants to beg her to stay, but I know that's not right. "It's alright, the dark is kind of nice, really."

Hazel smiles. "You know, I never understood that. You loved it, but the darkness always creeped me out." She looks around the room. "Can you come down here? In front of me?"

I land heavily on the ground, but as always, there is no noise. "I'm standing right in front of you."

"Where's your face?" she asks, reaching her hand out.

"Um, a little closer to you - to the left - sorry, my left, your right - okay, yeah, that's my right eyebrow."

"Somehow, you haven't changed very much," Hazel says affectionately. Then she leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. Or at least she tries. She's a little off, closer to my ear than anything else. I can't even feel the kiss. But it still makes my heart fill with comfort.

"I love you, okay?" she says. Her eyes are warm, and full of fire. "We'll figure this out. I know we will. You'll always be my brother."

I can't speak, but this time, it's because emotions are choking up my throat. I feel as though I really could remember, if she'd stay a little longer -

But then she's leaving, walking out the door and taking the flashlight and brightness with her, and then I'm standing in the dark once more.

"Don't go," I say, but my voice is much too quiet, and it's too late, anyway.

\---

I try to remember some things from Before. Hazel, our father. But nothing works. I repeat the name Hazel Levesque until it's morning and my throat is sore and it sounds less like a name but more like gibberish.

As I listen to students passing by, and as a result, can't speak, I remember that odd feeling that had occurred when Jason and Piper were here. Maybe they have something to do with it.

A memory bursts through. I try wildly to catch it. But all I can really make out is an image of Jason's blue eyes. And I saw them not too many days ago. I want to dismiss it as not from Before.

But there's something different about these eyes from the eyes I saw the other day. The other day, Jason seems off-balance, unsure. But the eyes I remember, they seem somehow different. I can perceive that it's Jason, definitely, but they're another Jason. Younger, more sure of himself.

When I think about it, it's likely that there are some people at this high school whom I knew before my - death. (I still flinch at that word.) Perhaps Jason is one of them.

But if that's the case, why can't I remember anything else? Or anyone else?

A whisper of a memory of Hazel touching my shoulder leaves me comforted, and maybe even relieved, but no less confused.

Maybe I'm remembering.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, who else to wander into the room but Jason. This time, he's alone. I immediately tense when I see him, but his eyes are unfocused, going straight through me. I want to say something but I know there's no point in trying.

He's unfairly handsome. I realize that I've been moving closer to him, too close. I suddenly have the illogical desire to touch his face.

Jason breathes out a sigh. There are dark shadows under his eyes. "I don't even know why I'm here," he says to himself, scanning over the room as if he expects something to jump out at him.

Who _are_ you? I think.

"I don't know why I'm even speaking out loud," he says, laughing shortly. "What am I looking for?"

Again, that impulse to touch his face. I should back away, but I can't.

"I wish…" he trails off. Then he shakes his head, rubs at his reddening eyes, and makes as if to leave.

I can't help it. Even if he won't hear me, I need to say something. "Jason -"

But I barely speak when he jolts like he's been shocked. "No way," he whispers, backing away. His eyes are wide, and there is a tear falling over the slope of his cheek. "No, he would never -" He turns and flees out the door.

I stare after him. What had Hazel said?  _If you try to speak when someone without sorcerer descent is listening, they won't hear you_.

My mind feels like it's overheating from all the questions.

"Jason?" I say, because he's gone now. But I am not sure what I am asking for.

\--

Hazel visits me the following night. As soon as she walks in with her flashlight I hurry to exclaim, "Hazel!"

Her face is serious. "Nico, I don't have much time to explain this all to you, so listen."

"But Hazel -" I say, unable to hold my tongue.

"There were once twelve people born with magic. I call them sorcerers; other people call them gods; other people call them demons. There's a lot that we don't know about them." Hazel looks frustrated. "It's all very mysterious. But basically, magic is real, we're just not sure how exactly it manifests itself. Say yes if you understand."

"Yes, but -"

"These twelve people have found a way to stay alive for years, well beyond a normal human's lifespan. They've had children with other magical people, and with regular people, and so the family - so to speak - has grown a lot."

"The sorcerers each have their own magical domains, and they work together to make sure their magic is used responsibly and isn't exposed. It's happened before, and it didn't go well." Hazel's eyes darken, and I know there's a lot she isn't telling me. "Our father is one of the twelve, and his domain is darkness, death, and the earth."

I'm stunned by this information, stunned enough to finally fall silent.

"The reason I've come here to tell you this," Hazel says, "is because I've heard talk. Jason Grace's father is the leader of the twelve, so Jason could hear you when you spoke the other day." She sighs. "Maybe I made a mistake coming here and letting you speak in the first place. Maybe I shouldn't have interfered."

"Is it so bad that I can talk to him?" I say.

"Nico, you shouldn't be talking to anyone at all. I'm breaking so many rules." Hazel shakes her head. "I don't know. But our father did something to you, I'm not sure what -"

"Hazel," I say. "Do you know how I died?"

She stares at me. "If I tell you that," she finally says, "I don't know what will happen to me. There could be a curse attached to that information, for all I know. I need to do more research."

I feel frustrated. "But then how am I supposed to remember things? And what will happen to me if I do?"

Hazel looks sorry. "I promise to let you know when I find out," she says. "For now, just . . . be careful."

I'm tired of all of this, I just want to know solid things, but I say, "Alright."

\--

Time seems to be speeding up. I'm used to days, weeks, months passing by with nothing happening, but it has been barely two weeks since I first saw Jason and Piper, and felt uneasy. So much has happened since then.

So I'm only a little surprised when someone else walks into the room.

She has impeccable posture, a dark braid draped on her shoulder, and piercing eyes that survey the weakly-lit, nearly-empty room. But there's something more vulnerable too, in the way she takes a shaky breath before calling, "Nico?"

I'm wary about exposing myself after Hazel's warning, so even though I want to, I don't reply.

"Nico, it's me, Reyna. I am skipping class for this, so help me . . ." She sighs, hands on her hips. "And you know I never skip class. So get your ass down here and _talk to me_."

"Are you my sister too?" I ask curiously. She's different from Hazel, but the feeling's the same; something about her is familiar. Which is strange, I realize, because Hazel hadn't been familiar at all the first time I saw her - only as time went on did I feel like I might have known her in the past.

Reyna looks around, eyes sliding past me. She looks so relieved, she could cry. But instead she simply answers, "No, Hazel's the only sister who's still - she's your only sister. But I'm close enough, I guess."

It doesn't really make much of a difference to me. The only thing I know is that she feels right. I relax a little. "Why did you come here?"

Reyna twists at her braid with her fingers. "Calypso saw something in the present, and I'd hoped - well, I haven't heard your voice for years. You sound the same."

"Calypso?"

"Yeah, Calypso. She's -" Reyna looks a little embarrassed, eyes dropping to the floor. "She's great. Somehow Piper knew that we were, well."

I feel a jolt of envy. I know I shouldn't, but it has never really struck me how dead I am until this moment. I'll never blush over someone again.

I'm being ridiculous. Reyna is happy, and that's all that should matter. "Calypso can see the present? How useful could that be?"

"She can see the past too," Reyna says defensively. "And tiny pieces of the future, if she's lucky - or unlucky. Anyway, she told me that she saw you as you are right now."

"Dead," I say glumly.

"Maybe." Reyna shrugs. "And she also saw slivers of the past - Hazel and the rest of them visiting you - and a tiny bit of the future."

"The future?" I say, interest piqued.

"Yes. Nico, you're starting to remember things." Reyna's gaze is intense. Since she can't see me she's glowering at the wall, but I'm glad for that - if her eyes had been directed at my face I think I would have flinched. "And you'll remember more and more. Eventually you'll have to make a choice."

"What choice? Did Calypso see what sort of choice I have to make?" I lean forward hopefully.

Reyna shakes her head too fast. "Calypso only saw that it has to do with you leaving this room." Her eyes flick away, down to her shoes, and she clears her throat and smooths her braid. "So, what can you remember?"

"Not a lot," I admit. "Mostly just feelings. Like, Hazel started feeling more familiar after her second visit. And I feel like I should know you." I sigh. "It feels like so little - I should be remembering more."

"Are you sure that's it?" Reyna questions, like she's pleading me to remember more.

I hesitate. "Can you tell me about Jason Grace?"

Whatever she was hoping for, that's not it. She rears back. "What? Jason - No, no, I'm sorry, Nico, but I can't."

My heart falls. "Why?"

"That's on you," Reyna says, glancing back at the door. "It's your job to remember. I should go now."

I recall that one image, of Jason Grace's eyes, young and bright. I recall the impulse I felt to touch his face earlier. And I recall the devastated look on his face when I spoke. Uneasiness coils in my stomach. Was he - he couldn't have been.

Reyna's almost completely out the door, to where I can't follow, but then she turns back to me. "Nico," she says. "I never really told you in words, but - I love you, and I miss you."

Even though I can't remember, she feels so right, and I wish I could explain why - but I can't. "Even if you never said it, I think I knew."

Reyna smiles faintly, and quickly brushes a tear away, a tear that I know she doesn't want me to see. "I wish I could help more," she says, before finally leaving.

\--

These past few nights I've been trying to relax and reflect on what has been happening recently, and this night isn't any better.

I've been remembering a lot more, which I suppose is a good thing. Some parts are still fuzzy, but I think I can remember growing up with Hazel. I remember her brief crush on some boy - Leonard, or something of that sort. I remember a fistful of pearls that she showed me, wonder on her face. I remember . . . meeting her? That doesn't really make sense, but I can clearly see her, shy and nervously saying hi.

I remember even less about Reyna. I remember her face, her eyes burning like fire - but maybe that's just from yesterday. I can clearly see her striped pony earrings, which she refused to wear in public.

But Jason Grace? Nothing. Any memory of him is just out of reach. I only keep seeing his eyes, again and again. And to be honest, I'm a little reluctant to know more. I do want to know who he is. I do. But a part of me tenses like a tightened string whenever I think of him. He's definitely a big part of my life, but, perhaps, not in a good way.

Memories of Hazel seem most forthcoming. In fact, I remember her embracing me and telling me something; I'm not entirely sure what.

Suddenly Jason's blue eyes intrude. I attempt to think of something else, but a memory is expanding in my mind like a balloon, and somehow his eyes are part of it.

I close my eyes.

\--

_I'm sitting on my bed, Hazel next to me. It's old, and creaks under our combined weight. Our father may have access to all the riches of the world, but I prefer not to use them._

_"If he ever finds out, he's going to hate me," I say._

_"I know it seems weird because you've just realized how you feel, but give it time," Hazel says. "Things will look better in the morning, and you'll see - he couldn't ever hate you."_

_"He's already done so much for me," I say, leaning my head on her shoulder. "He shouldn't have to deal with this."_

_"You're his best friend. He cares about you, Nico. He won't be upset if he finds out."_

_"He won't like me back," I say miserably. "I'm never telling him." I lift my head and say pointedly, "And you better not say anything!"_

_"I won't, I won't," Hazel says with a laugh._

_"It's just - after all that stupid shit with Percy - I'm scared. I don't know what to do."_

_Hazel smiles at me. "Does anyone? I know that you'll be alright. You're the toughest person I know."_

\--

I open my eyes. It's still dark. Now, more than ever, I wish I could remember more about Hazel. But the person who really plagues my mind is Jason. Jason Grace.

So we were close. Best friends. Is it stupid that I'm relieved, that I had two loving sisters, and a best friend who cared about me? I was worried, I realize - worried that I had been alone even when I was alive.

I wonder if I ever got over Jason. And, again, I wonder why I died. Why everyone is so somber around me. Why Jason fled when he heard my voice. I doubt he'll ever return to this room, but I wish I could talk to him. I wish I could ask him what's going on.

It's frustrating that I don't know if anything I've remembered so far is important. I need more time to think.

Fortunately, I have no shortage of that.

\--

_There's a new girl in our grade, a pretty girl with a feather braided through her brown hair smiles. Her name is Piper. She's a vegetarian. She told me once that I look nice when I smile._

_Reyna has a crush on her, I can tell. She blushes around her and looks angrily at the ground when Piper talks._ _I feel sorry for her, because Piper doesn't seem to notice. And Piper's nice and funny and thoughtful and enthusiastic, I'm not surprised Reyna has a crush on her._

_The one thing that's stopping me from really becoming friends with Piper (besides me not being good at the whole friends-thing in the first place) is that she's obviously interested in Jason, and that doesn't sit too well with me. But_ _I've kind of accepted it by now. I like Jason Grace, and I want more from him, but I'm not going to get it._

_Does Jason like me in that way? I have no idea. Does it bother me that I don't?_

_Well, maybe a little._

_I know we're young and only fifteen years old, but it feels real right now. In my mind I know that it's just a dumb crush. But my heart tells me otherwise._

\--

I miss Piper. Despite it all, I think I liked her.

\--

I miss Reyna. The more I remember of her, the more glad I am that she's found someone like Calypso.

\--

I miss Jason.

Does he miss me? He has to.

\--

I miss Hazel.

\--

I don't know what to do with all of this.


	3. Chapter 3

It's only happened a few times: pieces of memory, like scenes from a movie, floating up in my brain, stopping me from seeing anything else. There are details missing from these memories, I can tell, but in most ways they feel real.

Then, however, I open my eyes, and I see nothing but the walls of a room that I'm sick to death of.

The weekend passes in a rush. The occasional janitor peeks in, deems it not worth their time, leaves. One smokes a cigarette briefly in the room before stubbing it. Such mundanities slip past me easily, and soon the days are over.

Monday, early morning, I'm listening to the birds chirping, as I have every morning, when suddenly - I'm not sure how else to describe it - the shadows _bend_ , and Hazel materializes out of them.

I stare at her, slack-jawed. "What - how did you do that?"

Hazel looks a little pleased with herself. "I've been working on shadow-traveling. You were always the best at it, though."

I ignore the memory attached to that phrase that is fighting to surface in my brain. "Hazel, I've been remembering so many things. There has got to be something I can do with all this."

Hazel sobers. "That's why I came here. Our father called me to him yesterday - he'd found out that I was visiting you. But he wasn't angry. He told me that I had done just as he expected, and that - and that the time when you make your choice is very close."

"What do you mean? What choice?"

"It's -" Hazel starts, but cuts off abruptly. She's staring, for the first time, directly at me. "Nico, did you see that?"

"What was I supposed to see?" I ask, bewildered.

Hazel swallows, then replies, slowly, "For a second, I saw your hand."

I don't know what to say, but that doesn't matter, because Hazel hurries to keep talking.

"Our father warned me about that, too. You're going to become more visible. But it's not a good thing, Nico."

"Why not?" I ask. "What if it means I'm becoming more alive? I've been remembering more and more, and . . ." the desire that had been steadily growing in my heart seems to fill my entire chest, moving me to whisper, "and I want that life back."

"Everything comes at a price," Hazel says grimly.

I feel a surge of anger and disappointment. I shouldn't be surprised, but somehow I am. It's crushing to hear that I'm not supposed to want the only thing I _have_ ever wanted in a long time. "That's not fair."

Hazel glares, unfocused, as tears well up in her eyes. "Do you think that I'm enjoying this? The people in power must be obeyed, even if I think they're wrong. I can't let my emotions stop me." She shakes her head. "Nico, I miss you so much-" her voice cracks. She clears it and continues, but it's still scratchy. "But I have responsibilities. This is not my choice to make." She sighs heavily, wipes her tears away. "I'm sorry."

And I don't know when it started but my own eyes are prickling with tears, and when I look down I see my bare feet, which are flickering in and out in the air - along with the rest of my body, I realize, when I raise my arm. It should be shocking but I am too overwhelmed to feel more.

I don't want to cry. I need to know what's going on. I swallow and try to stay calm.

Hazel clears her throat and straightens up. Her eyes linger on my face but then she looks away. "Anyway. Nico, you have to tell me what you remember of Jason Grace. Everything."

"Jason?" I stammer. It's the last thing I expected her to say.

"Anything at all," she begs. "This is important."

"Um - I had a crush on him." What a ridiculous time to blush. "He was my best friend. I know Piper liked him, and now she's dating him."

"Anything else?" Hazel says tentatively. "Anything about his mother?"

"No." But then I realize that isn't true. "No, I think - Hazel -"

I black out as the memory takes over.

\--

_"Are you sure this is okay?" Jason whispered._

_"Duh," I said, rolling my eyes. "I've summoned spirits before." I was only sixteen, but for years I had been training to master my father's realm of power. Being a virtual social outcast until as recent as two years ago had also given me the free time to train for hours on end._

_I'd heard things about this room. Just last week, there had been a rumor that Percy and Annabeth were caught there, in some state of undress._ _When I remembered that, as I entered the room with Jason right behind me, I couldn't help feeling embarrassed._

_"You really don't have to do this," Jason said, closing the door behind him. The room was very dark, and I was glad he couldn't see me blush. Meanwhile, darkness was almost as comfortable as daylight to me, so I could clearly see his nervous expression. "My father forbade me from finding out about my mother, and who knows what'll happen if you break that."_

_"But that's not fair," I protested. "You deserve to know about your mother, and I can easily summon her spirit. It'll be fine."_ _I wasn't perfect at wielding my powers. But I was good enough. And besides, I wanted to help Jason._

_Jason seemed uneasy, but I could tell he was also curious. For weeks he'd been upset that his father would tell him next to nothing about his mother. And now we were finally doing something._

_I hoped my help would make him happy. I hoped he would grin and touch my hand and say,_ Nico, you're amazing, I can't believe I never said this before, but will you be my boyfriend? _(Well, that was a stretch, but I could dream.)_

_I looked around me. I could make out a few broken desks, a small high-up window. Overall, the room didn't look that foreboding, although my senses told me differently._

_"Are you sure you can summon her here, though?" Jason asked apprehensively._

_I waved my hand. "Of course," I said. And even if I couldn't, this was a place of death. I could sense at least some of what happened, and I knew Jason would appreciate even a little information. "Hmm . . ."_

_"What?" Jason said._

_I bent down to examine the floor. This was definitely a good place to summon Ms. Grace's spirit, if I could manage to do it. Her spirit had clearly imprinted on this room._

_"She was a secretary at this school," I said, concentrating… "And . . . I think she fainted in this room due to alcohol poisoning. Taken to the hospital, died hours later"_

_Jason wasn't saying anything. I looked up. He seemed stricken._

_I suddenly remembered that most other people weren't as accustomed to death as I was. And this was his mother. "I'm sorry," I said quietly. "Would you rather you didn't know?"_

_"No, it's okay," Jason said. "I - just, thank you for this. You didn't have to."_

_"I wanted to," I assured him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a skull ring. Well, it looked like a skull ring. My father had given it to me. It was actually a magical shortcut to summoning spirits. Otherwise I'd have to drill a hole in the floor and hope that Jason's mom liked Happy Meals._

_That method required a lot more preparation and time, which we didn't have much of right now. It would not be long before Hazel noticed that the car was missing, and not much longer for her to track us down. She'd been getting suspicious of me recently, monitoring my activities and checking up on me in the middle of the night, and informing me that she knew I was up to something._

_I slipped the ring onto my finger, and, taking a deep breath, crouched down to place my hands on the ground._

_"Hey, Nico?" Jason suddenly said. There was something in his voice that made me want to stop._

_"Yeah?" I said, eyeing the ground. It was starting to glow blue around my hands, which was odd - when I'd summoned spirits in the past, the glow had always been white - but nothing else seemed to be off._

_"Can I tell you something?"_

_I flinched as the floor shook a bit. "Can it wait?"_

_Jason sounded a bit disappointed as he said, "Yeah, I . . . guess it can."_

_But I was more focused on the ground, and how a fissure was starting to split open the surface. I had to direct the summoning, or else the whole floor would crumble. "I, Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, summon Jason Grace's birth mother, Beryl Grace, and command her to rise and face me."_

_This was the part when the spirit was supposed to rise from the ground and answered my questions. But that was not what happened. Instead, blue light flashed, like lightning, and I was thrown back against the wall. My vision filled with spots. I tried to blink them away._

_"Nico!" Jason rushed towards me. "Are you alright? Are you okay? I - what happened?"_

_I shook my head, scowling, trying to get ahold of myself. "I don't know. Something's wrong, Jason. This isn't how it's supposed to go."_

_A booming voice filled the room. I looked over at Jason. He looked over at me. Our terrified eyes met. His face was lit by the eery blue light._

_"I am Zeus," the voice announced, "and I have forbidden anyone from summoning Beryl Grace, on pain of death."_

_Jason grabbed my arm. His face was so close to mine. "Death?" he said, eyes screaming with fear._

_I felt numb. "Jason . . ."_

_Jason faced the light. "You can't do this!" he yelled desperately. "He was only trying to help, he can't - father, you wouldn't -"_

_That's the last thing I hear before everything goes blurry, then black._

\--

I open my eyes. The first thing I notice is that I'm standing, my feet firmly planted on the room's floor. The second thing I notice is that Hazel can hold me now, because I'm completely solid and visible.

"Did you remember?" Hazel says quietly.

"Hazel." I squeeze my eyes shut. "Tell me what happened."

"Father persuaded Zeus to have mercy on you. You were supposed to die a cursed death. You were supposed to suffer in eternity. Now, you -" I can hear her stumble on her words a little. "Anyway, this . . . this was important - remembering your death. That's why I can see you and hold you. But it's all happening too soon."

Suddenly she pulls away. "Nico," she says. "Nico, I'm so sorry, I -" She can't continue.

"Bottom line. Am I dead or alive?" I ask, inwardly pleading to her for the answer I want.

"That's just it, isn't it." She laughs shortly. "It's your choice. I know you're sick of hearing that, but it's true."

"Got it," I say glumly.

She shakes her head. "You're going to go back to your usual form any minute now." Her eyes roam over my face. "You look exactly the same as you did three years ago, my God." Her hands go to mine, and she clutches them.

We're both quiet for a moment. Then I say, "What happened with Leo?"

Hazel laughs, startled. "It turns out he's not my type at all. There's a guy I like right now, Frank - I don't know if you remember him."

"I do," I assure, vaguely remembering the nice guy on the school archery team. "I liked him."

Hazel smiles and rocks back on her heels, backing away from me as she shoves her hands in her pockets. "Look at us," she says. "We were both in emotional turmoil only seconds ago, and now we're talking about my crush."

"Well," I say, "it's not as though we can discuss _my_ crush."

I expect Hazel to laugh, or even smile, but she looks at me as though I just broke a rule I didn't even know about.

"You're still tone-deaf," she finally says, and, to my relief, smiles a little. "It's nice to know you're still you."

"Uh, thanks." I take a deep breath. "So, are you sure you can't tell me what my choice is?" I don't know why I asked that, I already know the answer. It's not going to change, no matter how I want it to.

"You saw in your memory what happened to you," Hazel says, smiling a little, but it's wobbly. "Best I don't break any rules."

"I - I wish -" Frustrated, I look down at myself. After a shocked moment, I say, faintly, "Oh." Because my body is fading again, much too quickly.

"You know," Hazel says slowly, "I miss you. And I want you back, so much. But this isn't just about me. And it isn't just about you, either. I want you to remember that later." She takes a step back. "I should go."

"Will you come back?" I say hopefully.

Hazel's face ducks down, but not before I see the truth in her expression. "No. This is probably the last time you'll ever see me, Nico."

I don't know what to say. I surge forward to reach out and touch her again, but my fingers go through her arm. I've back to being invisible and intangible. Something snaps inside my chest, and I force myself to withdraw.

She's still right here before me, but already I miss her.

I should say something. But Hazel's already looking away. It's like I'm not even here anymore. Before I get the courage to call for her to stay, she turns, and leaves.

And now I'm on my own in this room, and for the first time, I want to yell at and punch the walls of this - this _prison_. I don't think I've ever felt so lonely before.

I need to calm down. I take deep breaths until I realize it doesn't even matter. Breathing is just another illusion. The thought makes me panic even more.

Already Hazel's only a memory. Was she real? Did I make her up? Am I crazy? Maybe I even made up all of those other memories.

With no answer forthcoming, I'm left with no choice but to find it myself.

I spring into a frenzied action, desperate to know the truth. I go to that spot on the floor where I remember crouching, before Zeus threw me into the wall. Hovering in that location, I immediately feel cold.

This is an old room, in an old school. The floor is far from pristine. There are chips and scuff marks all over the old linoleum tiling. I had never given it more than a cursory glance. I'd never wondered about anything before, really - not until recently.

Now, my lips trembling with shock, I see it. A crack in the floor, right between where I had placed my hands in my memory. It looks, for all intents and purposes, like a regular crack in the floor, borne from some innocuous, careless accident.

I stare down at the fissure, and before my eyes that memory flashes: the same crack in the floor, but glowing blue, crackling with electricity.

It's the same one. All of this is real.

I have to exhale, even if my breath an illusion. I stumble back from the crevice, and, for once, I let myself cry.

\--

In an attempt to distract myself, I think about what Reyna told me, trying to make it fit with what I've learned since she visited. She said that I'd have to remember things on my own. I guess that's true enough. Hazel definitely helped me, but I have the feeling that all these memories would have come back anyway, whether their return was assisted or not. 

Reyna also mentioned that the choice I'd have to make - the choice everyone seems to mention,  but never explain - that choice has something to do with me leaving this room. I've already made up my mind that I want to leave, so the choice must be more complicated than that.

I want to blame my sisters for not just telling me the truth. But I understand why they haven't. If breaking the rules results in a cursed death, like what happened to me, I want them to keep their mouths shut. Still, it's frustrating, especially because I feel so close to knowing more. The end is coming - the end of what, I do not know.

My eyes stray, for the millionth time, to the crack in the floor. Early morning light is filtering through the window, illuminating the room. It sends a shiver down my nonexistent spine. A phrase flits through my mind -  _like someone walking over my grave_. This place . . . it's where I died. And it's where Jason's mother died.

The moment that thought hits me, I back away into a wall. Is the spirit of Jason's mother here as well? The logical part of my brain tells me she's not - Hazel would know. And I would have sensed it, back when I was alive. Still, the thought creeps me out.

All this new information about my past life - it's driving me crazy. I wish Hazel or Reyna were here. I wish I could talk to someone. _It's a stupid wish_ , I tell myself. _I existed this way for years_ , I tell myself.

But that was before I knew all this. That was when I didn't know who I was, who anyone was, and I was content to float in this room for all eternity.

Then Jason and Piper came running in, and everything changed. It seems so long ago. Things have changed so much since then.

There's a bitter taste in my mouth. Did Jason know? Did Hazel ever tell him my secret - my silent and total infatuation with him? I'm not sure if I want him to know or not. On the one hand, it hardly matters now. But as ridiculous as it is, I'm still afraid of his reaction. I don't know if I could have ever told him, even if I hadn't died: his friendship was too important to risk.

But that's all out of my control now. It's unlikely that I'll ever see Jason again. Why would he return here, after my single utterance of his name sent him fleeing, tears springing from his eyes?

\--

The sun changes, rises. I stare disinterested out the window. The outdoors has never looked so appealing. I can make out the arrival of teachers and students and staff, and I wonder how it'd feel to be out there with them. Do they realize how lucky they are?

Throughout the day, I hear people clamoring as they clamber up and down the stairs to their classes. I know Hazel and Reyna are among them. So is Jason. It's like torture, knowing that they're so close but being unable to see or talk to them.  _It's just like any other day_ , I tell myself, but that reasoning fails in the face of all that I've learned, and all that I've lost.

After what feels like an eternity, I hear the bell ring, signifying the end of the day, and in ebbs the school becomes more quiet. I hover about a foot above the ground, struck by how painful the day has been. I don't know how much more of this I can take.

Suddenly the door to the room creaks open. I flinch and dart away, just as Piper walks in. Her brow is slightly creased, her face cautious. I feel a torrential mix of emotions at the sight of her. But that's nothing compared to what I feel when Jason walks in behind her.

The two of them stand like that, at the doorway. Piper keeps glancing, concerned, at Jason, but he avoids her eyes. He looks uneasy, like he'd rather be anywhere but here.

I stare at them, utterly dumbfounded. Is this just fate's way of torturing me? I want to know why they're here; I don't want to know. I want them to leave; I want them to stay. Above all, I want to grip Jason by the shoulders and demand an answer.

"Piper, why did you bring me here?" Jason asks, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Piper walks away from the doorway, closer to the middle of the room - closer to me - then looks back at him. "Jason, come here, please," she says.

Jason hesitates, but still walks to her. I can see them both perfectly from my corner. My chest aches at how immediately his fingers twine through hers for comfort.

Piper sighs. "You were making so much progress, and then suddenly - ever since you imagined hearing Nico's voice here - you just withdrew. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Jason's shoulders slump. "It was so real. I know that's no excuse - I'm sorry, Pipes."

"You don't have to be sorry," Piper says. "I want to help. The way I see it, you need to confront this. Say the truth out loud, listen to yourself. You can't move on until you accept what happened."

I am frozen as Jason nods, clears his throat, takes a deep breath. He clutches Piper's hand like a lifeline as he says, "I think I was -" his voice breaks "- I _know_  I was, even if I never told him - I know I was in love with Nico."

Numb. That's how my body feels. Why didn't he tell me? Why didn't he just _tell_ me? Why do I have to find out something that would have made me so happy  - why do I have to find out in such a terrible way?

"He was my friend and I loved him for that too," Jason continues, voice a little stronger. "And even though I was afraid it would ruin everything, I wanted to tell him how I felt. I was going to, but then. It was too late." He shakes his head. "If I'd known - I never would have let him try to bring back my mother. It's all my fault. And I guess I felt so guilty that I imagined I heard his voice. I wanted to believe that he was still there." Forcefully, he says, as he turns to Piper, "But he's not. He can't be. And I've got to accept that and - I've got to move on." He bows his head. "I'm sorry, Pipes."

He should have told me. He should have told me. I don't know what would have happened if he had, but _he should have told me_. There are numerous holes in my heart, parts that have been missing long before I died, and I know he could have fixed some of them. The sudden, forceful knowledge of what I've lost hits me.

Still, I press my lips tightly together, determined to keep quiet, because Piper's face is full of burgeoning, cautious hope. So while it should be me standing in her place (it should have been me, it should have been me), I know I shouldn't intrude. I don't want to interrupt a moment that is still so fragile.

"Don't feel bad about loving him," Piper murmurs fiercely. "You should never feel sorry for love. I know you can get through this. _We_  can get through this. Together. Listen." She makes Jason look her in the eyes. "I promise."

Jason blinks at her. Tears are still running down his face but there is something new in his expression. For the first time, I recognize it for what it is: love. His whole body sags, like the weight of the world has been taken off his shoulders, and they embrace, holding each other tightly - and I feel like someone has made a fist around my heart.

I had spent hours and hours in this room, oblivious, not knowing that the entire time, I had been causing Jason this much pain. And now . . .

My hands clench up at my sides, and they feel disturbingly solid. I consider what would happen if I stepped forward and became visible. Somehow, I _know_  that I could do it: I finally know enough about my own soul to give it shape.

Or, I could simply speak. I could let him know how I felt. And then what? All of this fragile peace, this hard-fought serenity that Jason has struggled to atain - I would obliterate it all. I would hurt him all over again. And for what - so that  _I_ can feel better? So that  _I_ can feel some peace?

He has what he needs.

As soon as I think that, a ripple runs through my body, turning it formless, undefined; I can't feel my own skin. I gasp but the air has vanished from my lungs. I have no lungs. I am nothing, yet still I'm in this room. I can still see Piper and Jason.

 _What's going on_ _?_ I think, panicking.

I don't expect to hear a voice in my head respond,  _You've made your choice, Nico_.  _I'm very proud of you_.

 _Who are you?_ I try to place the voice; it sounds familiar, but I'm not sure whose it is.

There's a pause of silence, and then:  _Your father_.

I remember a man, tall and imposing, pale face expressionless as he looked down at me. I remember being thirteen years old, my father pressing a ring into my hand and saying that someone named Bianca would be proud. I don't know who she is, but the painful sadness welling up inside me seems to overflow when I remember her name. 

 _What's going to happen to me?_ I ask. My vision swims, and I can't see Jason anymore. God, I can't bear to think about him.  _Am I - am I really dead_ _?_

 _It wasn't your fault_. My father sounds almost angry on my behalf. _I couldn't let what happened to your mother happen to you_ _too_. He sighs. _And I'm sorry for the pain this has caused you, but it was the only way I could change your fate._

 _What the_ hell _are you talking_ _about?_   If I had a body, I think it would be shaking right now.

 _Zeus wanted to know if you were worthy of a second chance. He wanted to know if you would choose yourself over the wellbeing of his son. So this was the test he decided upon, and I agreed to it._  My father laughs darkly, humorless. _I knew you would make the right decision. You are your mother's child._

It was all just a way to appraise my worth. To see if I deserved to live. Why does he get to decide that? With effort, I put Zeus out of my mind - I'm too emotionally wrung out to contemplate his unfairness for long. Now I just feel cold all over, blank, almost emotionless, like I'm sinking deeper into nothingness.  _Well, I've passed his little test. So what now? Do I get my second chance?_

 _Yes_ , my father answers.  _Your spirit will be reborn as someone new. A clean break. A fresh start. Are you ready?_

I think of Hazel, who risked her life to visit me. I think of Reyna, who sought me out just to hear my voice. And I think of Jason, who is finally on the path to being okay, to being happy. 

I love them, and that's what makes me steel myself.

_I'm ready._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! To the people who commented and/or kudosed, thanks so much. <3
> 
> Typo-spotting, CC, etc. always appreciated.
> 
> Title from "Die Alone" by Ingrid Michaelson.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr [@inconsistentlypresent](https://inconsistentlypresent.tumblr.com). Come say hi!


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